


Once We Have Eaten

by LadyBrooke



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Food Issues, Hopeful Ending, M/M, passive death wish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-22
Updated: 2020-01-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:20:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22363993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyBrooke/pseuds/LadyBrooke
Summary: Maglor had resigned himself to being alone, now that Elrond had sailed.Círdan was furious - at Maglor and the entire situation.
Relationships: Círdan | Nowë/Maglor | Makalaurë
Comments: 6
Kudos: 49





	Once We Have Eaten

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a 100 words of being full of mussels prompt on FFA.

Maglor woke on a pile of blankets in the cave he had claimed as his home. That was as normal, and had been so for the hundreds of years he had stayed in this cave. 

Out of the ordinary was the lack of chill from the early morning air. That was blocked by a newly hung blanket across the cave's entrance, open just enough to let the smoke from the fire escape. On said fire, a pan full of mussels cooked, the smell reminding Maglor of the pain in his stomach from his recent lack of food. 

Most unusually of all, another elf sat by the fire. That - there had been a half-elf or two visit him from time to time, but no other elf had seen him in thousands of years. 

"Makalaurë," Círdan said, nodding his head in greeting. 

Maglor blinked, struggling to comprehend the sudden appearance, so soon after he had watched Elrond's ship sail over the edge of the sea, and so long after he had assumed any fondness between himself and Círdan had been lost to Maglor’s own decisions.

Maglor had also assumed that Elrond sailing was the end of any visitors, wrapping the trinkets Elrond had given him through the years in cloths and hiding them away in a chest for safety. 

"You should drink," Círdan said, interrupting Maglor's thoughts. A cup of water appeared in his line of sight.

Maglor jerked, not having noticed Círdan move to kneel by the blankets. 

"Thank-" he broke off into a cough, mouth dry and unused to speaking so soon after he awoke. Or at all, given how he had slowly stopped singing his days away once he came closer to the settlements of those who once knew him. 

Círdan held the cup to Maglor's mouth when he finished coughing, guiding him to drink the water. 

"Thank you, Lord Círdan," Maglor said. 

"Once you would not have called me such." Círdan sat the cup down, turning back to the mussels. 

Maglor swallowed. "Once I had only killed your kin once. I would not presume my welcome to do so still persisted."

"You have always been considerate afterwards," Círdan said, staring at the mussels as though they contained the answers to all of his problems. “If only you had spent any of that courtesy on thinking of the effects of your actions beforehand.” 

Maglor leaned back into his blankets. "You may leave, if you wish. I know you are angry, you do not have to pretend-"

Círdan whirled around to stare at him. "I am furious, Makalaurë."

"Then leave." Maglor drew the blankets closer while looking up to meet Círdan’s gaze. "It has been thousands of years since we last saw each other, there is no reason you should feel bound to this cave or to me.”

"I am furious that Elrond knew for thousands of years and I did not. I am furious that he only told me when he was ready to set sail." Círdan paced closer once more, until he loomed over Maglor. "I am furious that you never had the courage to risk possible rejection, and therefore deprived us of thousands of years together."

Maglor froze, hands dropping their hold on the blankets, allowing them to fall to the ground around him. 

Círdan’s eyes took on a pained expression at the sight. "I am also furious that after all of that, I arrived here to find you unmoving on the ground, chilled and starving. Tell me, did you intend this to be your end?"

Maglor shook his head. "I did not seek such, though I will admit I did not try particularly hard to avoid it."

Círdan’s hands shook at that. "Good. Neglect and lack of care is easier to deal with than intentional death seeking. The mussels will be ready soon, and I have brought bread as well. You will eat."

Maglor nodded. He would not argue, not now, when Círdan still looked torn between anger and despair. "I did not intend to hurt you."

"If only intentions were enough," Círdan muttered, turning his face away to grab a bowl and a spoon, dumping some of the mussels from the pan into the bowl. Then he grabbed the bread from his pack, carrying them to the blankets. 

"Eat," he ordered. 

Maglor did, hesitant spoonfuls and nibbles of bread - not lembas, he noted, but the same hearty breads Círdan had given him once, before things had gone wrong. Before Doriath and Sirion. Even before Fingolfin had arrived, when Maglor had desperately been trying to hold on after Maedhros was taken, and Círdan had offered his aid. 

Círdan watched him eat, until Maglor finally let the spoon fall back into the bowl. "My apologies, I am full."

Círdan let out a low breath, taking in the amount of food still in the bowl. "We will simply have to hope you can eat more next meal. I would not have you make yourself sick before we can make our journey back."

Maglor blinked at that. Círdan could not be suggesting what he thought he was. "I thought you were angry."

"I am," Círdan said. "But I would not have us parted by something as temporary as that."

Círdan leaned to pick up the bowl. 

Seized by a sudden courage, Maglor moved forward, capturing his hand. 

"Will you sleep beside me once you have eaten?" Maglor looked at his former lover as he spoke, biting his lip.

Círdan nodded, finally sitting on the blanket beside Maglor. "Only to sleep and so that I may ensure you remain warm. You are too frail and I am too angry for more tonight."

Maglor smiled. "For tonight?"

Círdan’s lips curled up. "I do not think my anger shall last forever, and I shall not let you remain so frail. We shall see where this goes."

"Thank you," Maglor said, tense muscles relaxing as he leaned back, allowing Círdan to eat. He felt lighter at the sight and the words.

Perhaps, for once, he had not lost everything to time and his own faults.


End file.
